Twixt the Twins
by Katalina Resolute
Summary: Hermione Granger was always a bright girl. Entering Hogwarts a year early surely would have no negative effect on her, that is, unless you count meeting the Twins.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters and world belong, as always, to the lovely Ms Rowling.

Chapter 1: We Meet

Hermione Granger's birthday is September the nineteenth. Professor McGonagall, in all her wisdom, always kept a close eye on the book of names, for students such as she.

Occasionally, the students who would be turning eleven very soon after the beginning of the school year, and that she deemed mature enough, were allowed to enter Hogwarts at the tender age of ten. Hermione Granger did not disappoint.

On September the first, she stood before the barrier, recalling the stern Scottish witch's words: 'Run. Don't worry, girl, you won't hit a brick wall. Watch another student do it first, if you must, but don't hesitate.'

A deep breath, and she passed through into the wizarding world, leaving her parents behind as she rushed to explore this new arena open to her. Diagon Alley had somewhat prepared her for this, but the crush of students; greeting old friends and saying good-bye to their families, combined with the noises of pets, the clash of luggage, and the huff of the train as it prepared to take its journey, was slightly overwhelming for a muggleborn girl from a quiet, well-ordered world.

Glad of the tiny wheels on the base of her trunk (and even more glad that she had convinced her parents to allow her the expense of a trunk, as everyone else had one), she made her way to the bright scarlet steam engine that would carry her to her new world.

The steps posed a problem.

Hermione was only ten years old, and her trunk was nearly as large as she, stuffed as it was with her clothes and many, many books. Blowing a stray curl out of her face, she began heaving the weight of her trunk into the train, using the edge of the step as a sort of inclined plane to ease the weight from her own small body.

A deep voice chuckled from the platform, and said, "You're a Gryffindor, for certain. Only we have that pigheaded stubbornness. Here, let me."

An older boy, not tall, but stocky, and with vibrant red hair shifted her smoothly out of the way and lifted her trunk into the train for her. Once the trunk, and the girl, were safely on the train, he turned to her, and offered his hand.

"My name is Charlie Weasley. You're a first year, right? I don't recognise you."

Hermione straightened her shoulders, and grasped his hand in her own, much smaller one and shook firmly. "I'm Hermione Granger. Yes, this is my first year."

He grinned at her, then announced suddenly, "I like you. You're determined, and you have a good, firm grip. Come on, I'll help you find a compartment."

Unsure how to accept this sudden confidence in her, and offer of help, Hermione smiled uncertainly at him.

He grasped the handle of her trunk, and began walking down the corridor, keeping up a stream of words as he went.

"I'll see if I can't find any of the older Griffindors for you to sit with: It'll be good for you to know someone, even if you don't end up there. I'm in Gryffindor myself, and so are four of my brothers, like my parents. I know...A-Ha! Here we are! You should do just fine in this compartment. Fred, George, meet..."

HGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Now, Charlie Weasley is not a stupid man by any means. Although some would turn up their noses at him for his love of the outdoors, and his rough and tumble nature, few cared to look beyond that and seen the keen intelligence that he boasted.

As the second oldest of seven children, Charlie was a very good judge of character, indeed, and he saw something in little Hermione Granger that caught his attention. Perhaps it was the way she had so obviously carefully pressed her uniform, desperate to make a good impression, and very indicative of her straight-laced personality, or the quietly determined way that she had gone about trying to solve her own problem at the train station, but something about her was definitely interesting enough for him to deliberately place her with his two mischievous twin brothers.

Years later, he would wonder at this stroke of unknown brilliance, but at the time, he had no idea what an effect this simple action would cause.

HGHGHGHGHGHG

AN: And there you go! My first chapter ever! Review and tell me what you think of it, please.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you to those who reviewed! It's lovely to have a good start on a new endeavour, and your positive comments went a long way towards that.

Chapter 2: Why Are You Here?

"Fred, George, this is Hermione Granger. She's going to be a Gryffindor. Don't damage her." With that rather abrupt and unsettling introduction, he dragged her trunk into the compartment, and left.

For a moment, Hermione was locked in a silent staring contest with twin redheads, his brothers, she guessed by the bright red hair. Their faces broke into smiles when she didn't run away screaming, but instead straightened her shoulders, and offered her hand to the one on the left. He grasped it enthusiastically.

"I'm Gred Weasley, and this is my brother Forge."

He transferred her grip to his twin without pause, and the next twin pumped her hand.

Her eyebrow rose unbidden. "Unusual names."

She fixed them with a sharp look. "I could have sworn you were introduced to me as _Fred _and _George_ by Charlie."

The one that had been introduced as George hopped off his seat. "She can stay, brother." The other one hopped off his seat as well, and between them, they levered her trunk into position between theirs.

Within moments, she was being ushered into a seat between them, and they both threw an arm over her shoulders. She sat with her back perfectly straight, unused to people who were so physical just moments after meeting someone new.

Unnoticed by her, they shared a look over her head: Why had Charlie brought this girl to _them_, the troublemakers of Gryffindor?

"So, Miss. Hermione, where are you from?"

"London. Which of you is which?"

The one on her left sighed, "I suppose, since you asked so persistently, we might as well tell you the truth, just this once. But after this, you are on your own, mind you. I am Fred Weasley."

She slipped off the seat, and stared hard at them both for a minute, her brow crinkling in concentration, then slid into the seat opposite them without a word.

George fidgeted slightly, and then jumped up and rummaged through his shoulder bag for a moment. He pulled a deck of cards out with a mischievous grin.

"You're a muggleborn, right?" At her mute nod, he grinned even more widely. "Excellent! Then it is our job to introduce you to wizarding society."

Now, the shock from being thrown into this strange situation wore off a bit, and Hermione interjected, "I've already been introduced to wizarding society. Professor McGonagall showed up to my home and explained ever so much, and I've read all sorts of..."

She was cut off by the other twin, waved his hands wildly for a moment. "No, no, this is different. You can't learn about people from only _books_. We are going to teach you about the fun stuff, the stuff that every kid needs to know. These are exploding snap cards."

"Exploding?"

He bulldozed past her sceptical question, and began to deal them out.

Halfway through the ride, Hermione was shocked to realise that she was having _fun_ playing with exploding cards with boys she had only met a few hours before. Slightly disturbed by the realisation of behaviour that was so out of character for her, she sat back for a moment, and jumped nearly a foot when her distraction caused the cards to explode, sending the twins into fits of laughter.

The twins spoke nearly as quickly as she did, but to make the speed even more dizzying, they seemed to pass the sentences back and forth in some well-practiced manoeuvre to mix up those around them. By the very end of the long journey, she was beginning to understand this haphazard way of speaking, and could follow it reasonably well. They didn't call her a genius in primary for nothing, after all!

She, in addition to sorting out their odd manner of speech, was desperately searching for differences between the two boys. She thought she had found sufficient physical markers, but they were very small, and she had to look carefully for them. She would need a better method of telling them apart, were she to spend any sort of time with them at all.

They seemed to have adopted her, to an extent, so this was a likely situation. As they pulled in to the train station, she silently admitted that she _hoped_ they would continue to talk to her after the train ride. Maybe they were just humouring their brother, and would drop her as soon as they saw all of their friends again...

Unconsciously, her chin rose a little. She would be fine. She had always been fine, when the others ignored her or teased her for her books and hair. Surely there were many, many books in which she could bury herself in the wonderful library Professor McGonagall had spoken of.

But oh, how lovely it would be to have friends in this new and strange world...

With a sharp shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the conversation at hand, leaving useless what-ifs for later.

When a very large man met them at the train station, calling loudly for first years, she had a moment of panic: she had to leave the twins? Unknowingly, she turned wide brown eyes to the redheads, who grinned at her in their unique way and pushed her towards him. "We'll see you when you are sorted into Gryffindor, Hermione."

This comment was enough for her, and she straightened her shoulders in a familiar ritual, and marched towards the very large man determinedly, leading a terrified gaggle of first years towards Hogwarts.

AN: And another chapter. Hope you guys like this one!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So many lovely reviews! I'm sorry that it has been a while since my last update, but please don't hold it against me! School takes up much of my time, and this is for fun.

Chapter 3: How is it Possible?

Hagrid was very large man. Watching, as she had, the minute first years climb into the rickety rowboats, she feared that his small vessel would capsize, sending him into the lake without pause. She raised an eyebrow, and wondered at how this might be so. She was afraid to knock her hand against the side of the boat, fearful that her hand would punch right through the side. How, then, was he supported by these rickety vessels? She hated to attribute illogical things to _magic_, but this appeared to be one of the growing list of things attributed to the very ill-defined new concept.

Carefully, she pulled out a pocket notebook and pencil, and added the rowboat to a page titled 'Research.' Satisfied that she would look it up later, she placed the book once more in her pocket, and gazed around as all of the other first years were doing. The scenery was quite bland, as they were travelling through a stone tunnel, but sizing up each other was enough amusement for the time being.

Finally, after a nearly-too-late warning to duck their heads before a curtain of ivy, Hogwarts appeared. Of course, there had been a photo in Hogwarts, a History, but she did not remember this.

For perhaps the first time in her young life, Hermione Granger's brain was not working at all. It was all she could do to stare at the magnificent castle balanced precariously on a cliff, every window ablaze with warm golden light. As her brain started to work once more, cataloguing every detail she could see, she dimly noted that the boats were moving much more slowly than they had been; probably giving them time to admire the building that would be their home away from home for seven years.

The boats ground to a halt on the shore, and the first years followed Hagrid's wildly swinging lantern as he climbed the path to the castle from the docks.

While the others stood behind him as he knocked, Hermione drifted slightly to the side to touch a tentative hand to the stone of the castle. It was positively ancient. Sturdy and strong, this institution had stood for a millennium, and she could feel it when she touched the stones.

'What type of stone was Hogwarts made of? Where was the stone quarried?'

The notebook once again appeared, and she carefully wrote it down, as she did everything. One could never have too much knowledge, and Hermione wanted to know _everything_ about her new world.

Answering the great, booming knock, the massive double doors swung open, letting golden light spill out to illuminate the petrified students. A woman stood outlined by the glow. After her eyes had a moment to adjust, Hermione could make out a tall, stern older woman clothed in dark green with a peculiar feather on the brim of her pointed witches hat. Hermione recognised her: Professor McGonagall had been the one to appear at her house and assure her parents that Hogwarts was not a prank. Her school shopping was guided by this formidable woman, the Head of Gryffindor House. Hermione quite liked her.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you Hagrid." Keenly intelligent eyes ran over the students, focusing for a moment on several students. "Follow me, please."

Perhaps it was something in her demeanour, but the group was considerably more subdued than they were with Hagrid. Whilst following him, they had formed a loose gaggle, but now, they were single file into the cavernous entry hall. The Professor led them into a small antechamber, and turned to face them as they crowded in.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Professor McGonagall announced. "You will join the rest of the school for the Welcome Feast, but first, there are certain things you must know. Very shortly, you will be sorted into a house. The Sorting ceremony is very important because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common-room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all ensure that you will give a good first impression whilst you wait."

Her sharp gaze crossed the faces upturned to her, and she pointedly lingered on a few slightly unkempt students. Hermione was very glad that she had tightly braided her unruly hair that morning, so that the gaze swept past her without stopping.

"I will return momentarily to lead you to the Great Hall." She swept out of the room, leaving the nervous students with nothing to concentrate on but the fact that nothing had been said about how they were to be sorted.

Quickly, Hermione ran through all of the spells she had read about in her books. Certainly, she hadn't been able to practice them, but they might be useful. What if there was a test? What if she failed, and was sent back to the muggle world?

Hermione drew in a deep, calming breath, and found her nerves settling a tiny bit. A moment later, that false calm was shattered when McGonagall reappeared and gestured for them to follow her. She found her place in the line, gasping as all the others did when she first caught sight of the magnificent ceiling that her books had raved about.

Her eyes scanned the rows of bright, happy faces all turned towards the new first year students. All of that attention focused on so few of them caused Hermione to shrink inside of herself for a moment, until a glimpse of bright red caught her eye. The Weasley twins were waving madly at her from one of the tables. She smiled subconsciously, and straightened her shoulders. She already knew people here, so why was she so nervous?

Suppressing the urge to pull out her notebook and write it down, she firmly resolved to herself that she would NOT be the one that everyone picked on, not here. Bullies would learn that Hermione Granger was not to be messed with. After all: She had the Weasley twins on her side, and something told her that they were not someone you messed with either.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Dedicated to the lovely FlutterDash, who gave me a metaphorical kick in the pants to update. This one is for you, dear, so you don't have to wait so long this time!_

Chapter 4: Better be...

The older students had been talking loudly when the first years walked in; discussing their summers, evaluating their peers with fresh eyes, and observing the timid group of eleven year olds that walked in under their scrutiny.

When Professor McGonagall placed an absolutely filthy pointed hat on a stool in the centre of the hall, Hermione was shocked to hear quiet spread throughout the assembly of teenagers. The moment the room was dead silent, a rip opened near the brim of the hat, and it began to _sing_.

When her brain jumpstarted again (rather more quickly than the last time, for she was becoming used to such shocks), she made an aborted movement to retrieve her notebook.

The hat stopped singing, and Professor McGonagall began reading names from a list. As she spoke each, a first year tumbled up to the stool, and placed the ancient hat on their head. The times varied between students, but eventually, the hat would call a house, and the student, beaming, would join that table.

Her name was called. Deep breath, head held high, posture perfect, as her mother had taught her. The hat settled on her head, balancing comfortably on her restrained curls. A voice spoke in her head, and Hermione's hands tightened around the edge of the stool, where she had clasped them.

"Hmmm. A fascinating mind. Very organised, yes. You certainly have the intelligence for Ravenclaw, but you have a spark that many of them do not have. Perhaps, perhaps you would fit there still, but that spark would truly leave you so suited to Slytherin: That mischief, pride, and burning need to prove yourself, to make something of yourself.

It is so unfortunate that there is such a prejudice about that house, that you would probably not live a happy life, were I to place you there. Yes, I think that Slytherin, rather than nurturing that spark as it would have in ages past, would rather kill it.

Ravenclaw too restrained, Slytherin too harsh. Hufflepuff? Certainly not. Gryffindor..."

Unintentionally, Hermione's mind went to her new friends, the Weasley twins. They were in Gryffindor, and it would be lovely to already know somebody.

"The Weasely twins, hmm? I remember them. I think they will certainly help you to achieve all that you are capable of, so I will place you in GRYFFINDOR!"

The final word echoed around the hall, and amidst the polite clapping, Hermione could distinctly hear the twins whooping at the top of their lungs.

Her face aglow, Hermione carefully placed the hat back on the stool, and walked to the Gyrffindor table, where four arms were madly waving to her. The twins had saved her a spot right between them, as if they hadn't doubted that she would be joining them. Carefully, she settled between them, accepting the sandwiched exuberant hug, and handshakes from those sitting around them.

All of his students seated safely in their new 'families', the Headmaster stood, and the light chatter that had sprung up fell quiet once more.

"I will not keep you from your meal much longer. As you eat your meal, please contemplate: I am the eye that cannot see. I am the ear that cannot hear. I am the mouth that will not speak. What are we?"

He sat down, and Hermione whipped out her notebook, not even noticing that food had appeared on the tables. Quickly, she jotted down the questions that she had saved from before, then opened a fresh page, and wrote down the riddle.

Finished, she tucked the book away and looked up to see the two redheads looking at her curiously. They spoke in turns, as she had begun to suspect they always did.

"What did you write down in that little book? And what were you writing with?"

She answered the first question first, as it was simpler. "I write down things I want to remember, or look up later, so that I don't forget them."

They nodded in understanding, and exchanged a look that she was certain that she did not want to interpret. The twins were very mischievous, and who knew what they had pulled from her explanation.

She retrieved her pencil from her pocket, and showed it to them. "This is a pencil. Muggles use them to write with, because you can carry them around with you, and they will not spill ink everywhere or mess up your pockets.

"Where can you find these...pencils?"

"Oh, everywhere. They are quite common, and everyone uses them."

"Could you get a few for us?"

She frowned, unsure if this was possible. "I could ask my parents to send some, but I don't have a way of contacting them."

The twin to her left (she was almost certain it was George) grinned in delight. "The school keeps post owls, so you could write to them and ask them to send a few. We have a little money, so we could buy them from you."

This was useful information: Hermione had been worried that she would not be able to write letters to her parents, as she did not have an owl of her own. That the school kept owls, probably for just her situation, was a welcome revelation.

"I will certainly ask them to send another package of pencils in their return letter when I write to them, but you don't have to worry about paying us back. Pencils are very inexpensive, and I'm happy to give you something so useful."

This earned her another double hug, then the boys turned to the serious business of eating. Now the muggleborn received her first glance of a magical feast in its full glory; there were familiar dishes, but some were completely unknown, and looked a little odd.

One of the platters jut in front of her held a sort of salad-like concoction, but for the fact that the leaves were a shape that she had never seen before. She tugged on the sleeve of the twin to her right (Fred, she was quite certain), and held up the dish questioningly.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Yuck. Flutterby salad with Mallowsweet dressing. I hate that stuff, but Mum says that it helps bring out any seer talent. She makes us all eat it. _It's good for the inner eye, children. Eat up!_" He mimicked a high voice, apparently his mother, as his twin giggled.

The first Weasley brother she had met, Charlie, was sitting just down the table, and he leaned forward to address her. "It doesn't taste bad. Mallow tastes a bit like it's been candied, and Flutterby leaves taste a lot like any other salad. Try it. You don't have to eat it if you don't like it."

Carefully, she placed a small serving of it on her plate, and tested it. The dressing was thick, almost syrupy, and it oozed oddly over the slightly purple leaves. She put a bite on her fork and brought it to her mouth without looking at it again. How could Fred hate this stuff? It was sweet, like her favourite raspberry juice, with a hint of something almost minty. She could barely taste the leaves, but they existed as the background flavour that salad always did.

Charlie, who had watched her careful test, smirked as she placed a larger serving on her plate, even as Fred groaned theatrically from her side. Sniffing primly, she also gave herself a helping of roast beef and pointed at his plate.

"Mind your own plate, and leave me to what I wish to eat, Fred."

When there was no reply, she glanced at him, only to see a very strange look on his face. "Was that a guess?"

"Was what a guess?"

"Did you guess that I was Fred, and not George?"

"Of course not. You told me on the train that you were Fred, and I remembered, just as you recall my name."

"Hermione, _nobody_ can tell us apart. Not even our mother."

_AN: Tee hee! Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I love hearing what you think of my story. Please, feel free to give criticism or ask questions. Does anybody know the answers to my little riddle?_


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thank you to those who reviewed! The answer to the riddle, although so few of you guessed (Shame on you!) is this: We are the eye of a needle, an ear of corn, and the mouth of a cave. Thanks to the two who tried anyways!

I'm so sorry for ridiculously long wait! Between family issues and finals, I hadn't even realised that these chapters were still marinating on my computer, and not on the internet for you guys to read.

Chapter 5: Your Own Mother?

A moment of stunned silence followed Fred's matter of fact statement. "Your _mother_ can't tell you apart?" Two heads, as well as a good portion of those around them, shook silently.

A person that Hermione did not know asked, "How can you tell them apart?"

Hermione opened her mouth, about to point out the minute details that she had memorised, then reconsidered. "Fred? George? Do you like being identical? Would you like me to tell them, or just you, later?"

Hermione had never been hugged so many times in one day in her life.

Throughout the rest of the feast, the twins were twitchy, obviously anticipating their opportunity to interrogate her without curious ears. When the Headmaster spoke his final words, they whisked her away from all of the other first years and behind a nearby tapestry. Behind the tapestry was another hallway.

"Are there many hallways like this in Hogwarts?"

Distracted, the twins volleyed their sentences back and forth without thought. "There are staircases that move, doors that hide, walls that disappear when you tickle them, doors that are really only wall pretending to be doors, and stairs that move. Welcome to Hogwarts."

As they spoke, they had been leading her down the corridor, but now they took an abrupt turn into a classroom. Why a classroom existed here, in this random hidden hallway, Hermione did not know, but it suited their purposes just fine for the time being.

"Talk."

Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

George nervously scratched the back of his head. "Hermione, protégé, oh, wise one whom we shall enlighten and who shall enlighten us in return, will you please tell us how you know which twin is which?"

Hermione snorted, then nodded. "Much better. I don't like to not know things, as you may have noticed. Therefore, I made sure to find minute details that make you different. Fred has a group of freckles on his left cheekbone that form Cassiopeia. George tends to leave his left hand hanging by his side whenever he talks, unless he is mirroring Fred or trying to emphasise a point, while Fred talks with both of his hands gesturing.

Those are the first two that I noticed, although it remains to be seen if the second one will hold up to scrutiny. I will need more time to find other ways to tell you apart in different situations, or perhaps once I know your personalities better, I will be able to tell you apart that way."

"George has broken his left wrist three times. He subconsciously protects it so that it won't be injured again."

"That is all that you have to say?"

Two heads nodded in unison. "We're just happy that you bothered to try and tell us apart at all"

Smirks bloomed on both of their faces suddenly, causing Hermione to take a wary step backwards.

"The freckles won't help you very much. We change them around every so often with cosmetic spells. We've found that it confuses people slightly, but they can't figure out why they are confused. It's too subtle for most people to pick up on, but subconsciously, the slight differences throw them off."

"That is very...devious of you." The notebook came out once again, and this new development was carefully recorded.

"Do you write down everything?"

"As much as I am able."

"Huh."

The conversation, now that they had covered the important points, died and they stared at each other for a minute or two, unsure what to do now.

"Perhaps you could show me the way to the dormitories?"

The twins began moving in the opposite direction of the door they had entered by, and she cautiously followed.

When they emerged from another tapestry into a large corridor, Hermione reflexively gazed out of a nearby window to orient herself. Just as her gaze was about to slide past the window, she sharply threw her gaze out of it once more.

"What floor are we on?"

One of the twins threw her their signature cheeky grin. "We started out on the ground floor."

"That is _not_ what I asked, Weasley! How did we end up here?"

The other twin shook his head in mock dismay. "Were you not listening, protégé? This is Hogwarts. The staircases, hallways, and doors move wherever they please. In this case, Lady Hogwarts has decided that a corridor that somehow brings you directly from the Great Hall to the fourth floor corridor is a grand idea."

"I see."

Realising that this would take a bit longer for her to absorb, the twins led Hermione on the much more typical route of the main staircases towards Gryffindor tower. By the time they had reached the tower, they had joined with the stragglers from the upper years. Hermione received several strange or wary looks from these, who had already learned that Weasley twins were perhaps more trouble than they were worth.

"How am I supposed to find my way here with everybody else? I hardly remember the corridors that you turned down as it is."

Fred shot her a cheeky grin. "Well, Granger, guess that just means that you'll have to stick with us for a bit, eh? We'll show you where all the passageways are."

Slightly comforted by this, Hermione agreed. They might as well have told her that they weren't going to get bored of her, as everyone else did. Perhaps Hogwarts might just be a new start in the way she hadn't dared to hope for.

AN: Well, another chapter! I have another written, and it should be appearing soon, but it needs a bit more editing before I release it into the wild.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Once a Bookworm...

Hermione rose very early the next morning. It was Sunday, so many of the students were still fast asleep, but she was itching to explore this castle that was now her home.

Carefully, she dressed herself in her brand new robes with the proud Gryffindor colours, and made her way into the common room. Although none of the other girls in her dorm had been awake as she quietly readied herself for the day, she found a few older students in the common room, including a familiar head of bright red hair.

Charlie Weasley, the boy who had helped her onto the train and abandoned her to the tender mercies of his twin brothers, was sitting on a couch with his head tilted back, staring into space. She placed herself in front of him, and cleared her throat pointedly to gain his attention. Lazily, he rolled his head along the puffy cushions until he could see her, and raised an eyebrow.

Despite herself, a corner of her mouth crooked into an almost-grin. "You are not awake, are you, Charlie Weasley?"

"Define 'awake'."

"As I suspected."

She eyed him quickly, wondering if it wouldn't be better to leave her question for another time, but her mouth began moving before her brain could make a decision. "Why did you leave me with your brothers?"

His eyes focused slightly as he began to wake himself up more fully. "I dunno, really. It seemed like a great idea, and it just felt right. I'm a big fan of Flutterby salad, you know." He lazily winked at her, and she raised an eyebrow at his careless answer.

"Do you mean to tell me that you abandoned a defenceless first year with your highly mischievous twin brothers on a 'feeling'? And, you attribute said feeling to a common household green that an old wives' tale recounts as perhaps having an effect on your 'inner eye'?"

His eyes twinkling, Charlie nodded. "Sounds about right."

Hermione's fists found a very familiar place on her hips as she tried to decide whether he was pulling her tail. Seeing this, Charlie sat up straight in his seat. "I honestly don't know, Granger. It felt like a good idea at the time."

Her posture relaxed a bit at this admission: It didn't sound like he had malicious intentions. Maybe her fortuitous placement really had been based on the whim of a teenage boy.

"Why are you awake so early?" Her gaze focused on Charlie at his question.

"I could ask the same of you, although I would suppose that it is not by choice."

He nodded. "I help the groundskeeper with some of the animals that live around Hogwarts. I was making my way outside to see him when I decided that I was still too tired to walk all the way there. Your reason?"

Hermione's eyes shone as she recalled her purpose in being awake so early. "I wanted to explore the castle. Professor McGonagall told me that there was a magnificent Library, and I want to find it."

His relaxed face tightened slightly in worry. "That's not a very good idea. This is a big castle, and very easy to get lost in."

Seeing her face fall slightly, he amended his statement. "Tell you what: I'll take you to the Library, and leave you there to look around a bit. It's a couple of hours until breakfast, so you can explore in there a while. I'll send the twins to find you for some food when they wake up, or come and find you myself."

A brilliant smile spread across her face at his offer, and he could see that she barely restrained herself from clapping her hands together like a little girl. He levered himself from his comfortable seat, and led her through the portrait hole, talking as he went.

"You'll want to ask the twins to take you exploring. They know a lot about this castle, even though they've only been here for a year. Most people just stick to the corridor that they need to get between classes, but those two made a point of exploring everything they could access in their spare time. I had to go and rescue them a few times when they got utterly lost, but I don't think you could find better guides."

She nodded: It made more sense to take advantage of the twins' existing knowledge than wander aimlessly on her own. They could move her more quickly past the boring areas of the castle to the fascinating unexplored corridors and rooms.

Vainly, Hermione tried to remember the twists and staircases that Charlie took to get to the Library, but gave up after five minutes or so. Finally, they arrived at an impressive ancient door in a corridor of its own. Hermione felt her breathing pick up in excitement, and Charlie turned an amused smile to her.

"Here you are, Granger. Please don't get distracted in here and forget to eat or something. We'd like for you to survive at least a week at Hogwarts."

Hermione cocked her eyebrow at him, and sniffed. As he turned to go, she suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Charlie, wait!" She pulled out her trusty notebook, and flipped to a new page, offering it to him. "Would you write down the directions to get from Gryffindor Tower to the Library for me please?"

He scratched his head, but cautioned as he accepted the notebook and pencil, "The directions won't be easy to follow, you know. The portraits visit each other, but I think I might remember enough stationary details for you to get by. It certainly couldn't hurt, but don't depend on this. Try to learn your way on your own, the way the rest of us did."

Hermione nodded in agreement, and watched as he scrawled several lines on the clean page. He handed her belongings back to her, then waved over his shoulder as he began walking back down the hallway.

Hermione tucked her notebook back into its customary pocket, and turned back to face the large door. With an anticipatory grin, she tugged on the handle, pleased that the door swung open with little effort on her part.

Hermione stepped through the door with awe, admiring the rows of books in a room larger than any she had ever seen, including the great hall. This room, right here, was heaven.


End file.
